Advent tells a different story: Love entered the imperfect and chose to come close.

Joy isn’t found in the absence of suffering, but in remembering who Jesus is and what He has done for us.

So how do I find peace in Jesus during the waiting? Or the hardship? Or the challenging life situations, for that matter?

We often say “Jesus loves you,” but Scripture tells us something even more intimate: Jesus prayed for you. John 17 reveals a deeply personal love—one that reaches across generations, into your present circumstance. Come hear His prayer for you.

We don’t always get clarity on the road ahead. But God invites us to trust that the unknown path may be the most meaningful part of the journey.

Ever have one of those days when your minds feels like a browser with too many tabs open? I sure have! And the holidays—withall their extra obligations and preparations—tend to land squarely in that category for me.

If you’ve ever lain awake worrying about your grown child, wondering where you went wrong, you’re not alone. Many parents struggle silently when you can’t fix your adult child’s pain, no matter how much you long to help. We all carry unspoken dreams for our children. We imagine them steady, happy, and purposeful. But when life circumstances interrupt that vision (such as depression, addiction, distance, or pain), it can shake us to the core.

“This awful moment wasn’t going to be the end of my story. When life feels impossibly hard, it’s easy to wonder if things will ever get easier. But in the very place where I fell apart, God began to rebuild something beautiful."

Even the most ordinary day becomes holy ground when we remember Who walks through it with us.

When we encounter division and hatred, our response should reflect the heart of Christ—standing for justice while still showing love, pursuing truth while extending grace.

Our life is but a vapor, but it will have true meaning when we look to Jesus for everything.

When you ask God for quiet, He may provide it—or He may teach you to find Him even in the noise. He is in the silence, but He’s also in the sound.

You are my Calm amidst the storm, and I know You will never forsake me—not now, not tomorrow, not ever.

"Don’t you trust me?" I heard him whisper inside. "I know what needs to get done. Will you let go and trust me?"   

The enemy is crafty, twisting truth into lies—but God’s Word is stronger, a light that scatters the darkness.

We become spectacular new creations of hope through our brokenness—a stain-glass of imperfection, reflecting hope in Jesus Christ.